


A Softer World

by diamondgore



Category: Wolverine and the X-Men (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, First Kisses, Gen, M/M, drabble prompts, looking for a better future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16848205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondgore/pseuds/diamondgore
Summary: A collection of drabble prompts from tumblr put in a single place.





	1. I miss doing nothing with you. (I miss not having to pretend to like your family.) / Iceangel

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary says, these are just all collected from my tumblr blog and put into one place. 
> 
> If you'd like to ever request something, I am @[diamondsynth](http://diamondgore.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

Warren was in the bathroom, sighing deeply as he looked at the clock on his phone. There was still three more hours to the dinner he’d been invited too. It was bad enough that he had to see his own mother, but the fact that she, and both of Bobby’s parents were there, was grinding Warren’s nerves more than the usual family dinner. 

He was trying so hard to bite his tongue at the table, so he decided to escape to the bathroom and sit on the floor, hoping that his presence won’t be missed at the dinner table. He had told them that he had to touch up his face, even though he was clearly not wearing any make up. 

But they were all seemingly on board with the idea that Warren was busy falsifying his beauty. 

There was a loud knock on the door.

“I’m peeing.” Warren responded, hoping he’d be left alone. If it was any of the parents, they’d leave him alone.

“It’s Bobby.” The door handle turned open. Warren never locked the door in Bobby’s house, mostly because the lock was broken and his parents never really fixed it.

“What if I was actually peeing?” Warren said from the floor of the bathroom, holding his legs to his chest.

“We live together.” Bobby shut the door behind him and then closed the door gently behind him. “I’ve seen you pee before.” There was a tint of humor in Bobby’s voice, but it was clear that Warren was not in the mood for humor. 

Bobby smiled, and then sat down right next to Warren, who had been picking at his feather in the half hour he spent in the bathroom. There was a small pile of feathers, mostly broken and ingrown feathers on the floor. Warren had been arranging them by size mostly. Bobby picked up a feather in his hands.

“You really have to stop doing that. It’ll freak my mom out.”

Warren frowned. “Everything about us freaks your mom out.”

“She’s just… A little sensitive to mutants.” Bobby said, looking at his fingers. “And she’s kind of iffy about gay people, but she sincerely does like you, Warren.” Warren can’t decipher if he’s lying or not, Bobby was always a little hard to read, with his stolen glances and little to no eye contact.

Warren rolled his eyes. “If she  _likes_  me so much, why does she keep making that damn roast of hers whenever I come over?” Just thinking about the smell of cooked meat made Warren want to gag. He truly did not know how he got through dinners before.

“You don’t hate the roast.” Bobby crossed his arms. He was always defensive of his mother, especially to Warren. “You just hate her.”

“I hate meat.” Warren replied in defense of himself. “I hate her too, but that’s for another day.”

“Wings, do you really want to talk about how bad mothers are? Because as far as terrible mothers go, your mom is as bad as mine.”

Warren plucked another feather from his wing. “I know. Why do you think I left the left the dinner table? I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I spent another moment there.”

“You’re too sensitive.” Bobby twisted his shoulder, and put his hand on Warren’s shoulder. Warren leaned into his touch with a pout on his face. “It’s just a few hours, plus at least now we don’t have to visit the both of them for the holidays.”

“I’m not, I just don’t like being around our family.” Warren shifted himself closer to Bobby. He put his head onto Bobby’s shoulder and sighed, it was a little comforting to have Bobby with him when he was so distressed. 

“ _Our_  family?” Bobby smiled and then lolled his head on top of Warren. He moved his hand from Warren’s shoulder to his thigh.

“Yeah, we share them now don’t we? They’re like basically honorary in-laws at this point.” Warren moved his and hand on top of Bobby’s.

Bobby was grinning now, and Warren can feel his jaw moving. Warren knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You think I’m gonna propose to you Drake?”

“I think you basically just did, Worthington. You’re willing to put up with my parents, for me, and I think essentially that’s a marriage proposal in some countries.”

Warren rolled his eyes again. “You do realize if we do get married, we’re never gonna have any fun ever again, correct? We’ll constantly be at your parents’ house for dinner.” Warren closed his eyes, thinking of having Mrs. Drake’s roast every other week. “I’m going to be so puffy.”  

It was clear that his future belonged to Bobby, with Bobby, and around him no matter what. They were meant to be in some weird twist of fate.

“You can just ask my mom to cook something different, Warry.” Bobby attempted to rub the bottom of his Warren’s hand with his thumb, it was awkward, but it made Warren smile.

“I don’t think you understand how much I hate that roast.”

“I do, but I don’t think  _you_ understand how easy that problem is to resolve.”


	2. When I look at you all I can see are the mistakes we’re going to make. (The future’s so bright.) / Quentin + Idie

The only thing clean about Quentin’s apartment was his bathroom, the rest was covered with his clothes, and random bits of garbage and half eaten take out. However, there was a reason all that take out was only half eaten and not completely devoured.

Quentin was sitting on the floor of his bathroom, with his head against the toilet, not wanting to move and risk getting sick again. He looked like he’d fought his way through hell and back, with his eyes shut tightly, and only letting out a few moans every now and again as a form of communication with Idie.

Idie was over when Quentin wasn’t ill. She was over a little before that whole mess happened, and they were having decent conversation before Quentin decided to get sick and ended up glued to the toilet seat for a good two and a half hours, and now they were rounding up towards the third hour. She was sitting on the floor beside him, scrolling through her phone, and occasionally checking up on how Quentin was doing.

“This is the first time I see you in a year,” Quentin whined into the toilet seat, “And I’m as sick as a dog, and I can’t even entertain you.”

“You’re entertaining me.” Idie said, putting the phone in the pocket of her jean jacket. Well, it wasn’t her jean jacket, she had borrowed from Quentin a few years ago and never returned it. It had a painted on Phoenix symbol in the back, and little buttons that she had never really removed. It was terribly oversized, but she enjoyed wearing it. “We don’t need to have conversation.”

“You’re bored. Your entire aura is screaming about how bored you are.” Quentin complained. He liked having her around, even if he couldn’t really talk to her. He liked the idea of simply being with her, but he could feel her boredom, and it made him feel terrible about his own self.

“But you don’t want me gone.” Idie said. “I’m here for you, Quentin. I might be bored but it’s not because of you.” It wasn’t a lie, the fact that she had been flippantly scrolling through her phone instead of talking to Quentin was what causing her boredom. She hated that she had to boost his ego every now and again, but it was what she had signed up for being his friend. He was always so fragile, and on the edge of breaking.

Idie never really understood how Quentin was so easily put down. The fact that he was so soft despite being torn apart by the world constantly, was never something that made sense to Idie. How we wasn’t heart-hardened like her, was beyond her. She knew it came from loneliness, and it was a loneliness that she had understood.

Quentin was never lonely with Idie around. His whole demeanor changed when she was around him. He was a friendlier man with her by his side, deeply truly, Quentin loved Idie with every fiber of his being. However, he knew that she had moved past him, and now thought of him of a blase phase that she had indulge herself in four years ago.

“Do you really want to spend your day watching me in agony?”

She hated that she let three years go to waste in ignoring him, while he desperately tried to fix things between them.  Quentin was, in his own odd way, owning up to the mistakes he made by trying to mend relations with her. Whenever she looked at him these days, she can see the future with him in it. Their friendship was possibly something that was going to defy time, considering that she was in full control of two elements, and Quentin was going to be able to bend time and manipulate life itself. She had seen the future and what they become.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything better to do.” She extended her hand underneath the toilet, and placed her hand on Quentin’s thigh, making him smile.

Even now while he complained with his head planted on the white porcelain bowl, she knew she was stuck with him forever.


	3. hey, i’m liking your photos at 2am because i want to make out.  i’m texting you at noon because i want to make out.  i woke up today because i (we don’t need words) / Julian + Quentin

“Ugh this sucks so much!” Quentin was sitting across from Julian at a cafe that was open well beyond 8pm. Quentin was lamenting the fact that he had the chubby cherubic cheeks of a thirteen year old child, and that Nate, Glob, Santos and Benji had all decided to leave him behind while bar hopping.

Julian was the only one willing to stay behind and babysit Quentin. Not that he needed to be babysat, considering that he was a few months older than Julian. But Julian felt that it was his turn to stay behind and keep Quentin company, or else he would complain all week long about how nobody loved him, and it would turn into a quasi-melodramatic drama.

However, Julian was not giving Quentin the attention he wanted. He was busy scrolling through his phone and casually glancing at Quentin every now and again.

“You’re not even paying attention to me! You’re too busy scrolling through Instagram rather than talk to me.” Quentin frowned. “Why did you even come with me if this is all you’re going to do, Keller?”

Julian didn’t even bat an eye, he just shifted his eyes towards Quentin and offered a half smirk. “Check your phone.”

“What do you mean check my phone?”

“Just do it, idiot.”

Quentin sighed out loud and then pulled his phone from his pocket. There were a bunch of notifications, but he couldn’t concentrate on which app they were coming from. They were all a bunch of kiss and heart emojis. Singular messages of kisses and bright red hearts. He focused on the user name, once he saw that it was from his Instagram app.

_Jules.keller._

It was hard to hide the color on his cheeks. It was the same color as his faded pink hair. He couldn’t decipher what Julian wanted, but this was clearly some sort of sign.

“What—What does this mean?” He asked looking at Julian who had stated expressionless. He had probably learned that from working with Emma for so long.

“You wanted to talk, so I decided to let you keep talking, but I thought I’d hint at you of why I really stayed behind to Quentin-sit.”

“Very funny, Quentin-sit?”

“Glob came up with it.” Julian placed both of his elbows into the table. An intimidation tactic. Quentin was really feeling the heat from Julian, from the flushing of his cheeks to the definite warmth below his belt.

Julian’s lips curled. Without even moving his elbow he used his telekinesis to extend his metallic hands and allowed his fingers to curl beneath Quentin’s chin. They tipped Quentin’s head upwards.

“Did you actually forget your ID, Quire? Because you rarely do that.”

“What are you implying?” Quentin squinted at Julian, and then it hit him: Julian was the one who hid his ID. This was all a premeditated plan to get Quentin all alone and wound up. Quentin would’ve never thought that Julian had the mind to pull something like this off , but he was the leader of the Hellions for a good while. “You did this, didn’t you?”

Julian hummed. “Took you awhile to guess that.”

“Why?”

Julian’s hand inched Quentin closer, and he leaned in as well. “Well, for starters since Morph and Rockslide are now busy, leaving both our dormitories empty. Secondly I didn’t want anyone to really question why I decided to babysit you most of the time.” His fingers gracefully trace Quentin’s chin, all the way down to his neck and then pulling his hand to himself. “You aren’t the prettiest person in this school, and well, I sort of am.”

“You didn’t want anyone to know…?” Without reading Julian mind, it was hard to finish the picture Julian was painting. He thought about all the emojis that Julian had sent him—God he was dumb for not figuring this out sooner.

“You want to spend the night with me, like a date.”

“Not quite like a date…that requires some planning, moreso spending the night together. ”

“As if you didn’t plan this whole thing just to get with me, Keller.” Quentin smiled, appreciating all the hoops Julian jumped through to get him alone.

“Maybe, but it’s not my fault you didn’t read the signs earlier, maybe we could’ve done something more than make out in the dorms.” Julian leaned into his metal hands and then winked at Quentin.

Quentin punched him in the shoulder, so Julian would stop being so cocky.


	4. I do not believe in love at first sight.  But god damn. (Look at you.) / Beast & Nightcrawler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kurt and Hank had first met, Hank seemed like the all elusive superhero. He was beautiful and charming and all those adjectives that Kurt didn’t know at the beginning,

When Kurt and Hank had first met, Hank seemed like the all elusive superhero. He was beautiful and charming and all those adjectives that Kurt didn’t know at the beginning, and he thought that feeling of being head-over-heels would fade away, and for the most part they did. Hank wasn’t around often enough for any of those feelings to develop or cure.

But, at a gay bar, with a few of his friends, Kurt felt all those feelings rushing back into his chest. Hank was stripped down to his too tight white shirt, talking about something that Kurt didn’t fully understand. He had his blue fur pushed away from his face, and his spectacles were nowhere to be found.

Hank looked so fetching, and Kurt couldn’t concentrate on anything but him. Kurt had lost interest in everything else.

He’d originally gone for moral support: Bobby’s first time at a gay bar. It was a comfortable affair until Hank had gotten to his fourth Long Island iced Tea of the evening. He was getting awfully warm and uncomfortable in the bar, and he had taken off his blazer and tie. He was seated next to Kurt, with his back pressed against the barstool.

“You don’t look so hot.” Bobby said, and then filled Hank’s empty glass with shaved ice.

“Actually, Bobby, I’m very hot.” Hank looked at him with a smile. “I appreciate the night out, but I think I might to have to head back. Do you think you’re in good hands?”

Bobby looked at the jukebox where Piotr and Logan were chatting. He’d be in fairly safe hands, if anyone decided to attack.

“You should take Kurt with you, just to be safe, you know?” Hank could very well defend himself, but Bobby didn’t want to take the risk. Bobby nudged Hank’s shoulder and then gestured at the glass. “Have a drink of water before you leave though.”

Hank looked at the glass of ice, and tipped it back into his mouth, biting down with a soft crunch. “I shouldn’t take Kurt, he probably wants to stay.”

And it could be the fact that the music was like Azazel making cotton candy with his head, but Kurt wanted to leave, but he didn’t want it to be with Hank. Kurt wasn’t the one to say no to a way out, so he tried to reassure Hank.

“It is no problem, Hank. I don’t mind going back with you. Although, I don’t have a car, and I don’t think Piotr would let us borrow his, do you mind I transport you?” Kurt hadn’t had anything to drink, he prefered not to drink outside of the manor.

If Hank was warm from the alcohol, Kurt was boiling with how Hank looked. If his cheeks could flush anything but blue, they would. He curled his tail to show his sincerity, wrapping it around Hank’s chair.

“If it really isn’t a bother, to either of you, I wouldn’t mind going home.” Hank shrugged. “Tell me if you meet any studs.”

“I don’t know how most people feel about dating a furry blue man, but I’ll to pass out your number if I find a guy who’s willing to date you.” Bobby joked, and Hank pawed at his shoulder.

Kurt didn’t say anything, afraid to interrupt their banter, but then Hank put his paw on top of Kurt’s and he could swear for a moment he had died again.

“As they say, Viel Spass!” Hank hiccuped into his paw. “I hope I didn’t butcher the pronunciation.”

Without a moment to waste, Kurt tightened his grip on Hank and they both bamfed to the institute.

Kurt had chosen his own room to bamf into, but upon arriving he realized that he had left without Hank’s blazer and his tie. Oh well, he’d text Logan to get them later on. He watched as Hank removed his shirt and then struggled with his undershirt.

“I apologize, I’m very warm, but not in a cozy manner.” Hank said as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I–”

“Don’t apologize, Henry.” Kurt cut him off, he knew how much Hank loved to talk especially when intoxicated, and picked up Hank’s shirt from the floor. “I’ve seen you naked plenty before.”

Kurt scrunched up the shirt in his hands, and watched as Hank dropped backwards on Kurt’s bed. There was a loud ominous creek from it, but Kurt acted like he didn’t hear it, and Hank really didn’t notice it. He stared at Hank as he rested on the bed in silence, reeking of alcohol, sweat and brimstone.

He can’t believe this was the man he had feelings for and that he was taking up most of his bed. 


	5. I cannot help but notice we are sitting-in-a-tree.  So, you know, maybe we could think of something to do… verb-wise. (I want us to gerund, essentially.)/ Iceangel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbetaed but, this is the last one! It's finished!

Bobby lost another bet to Hank. It seemed that years of deciding to skip chemistry class did not help Bobby in anyway, and just seemed to make him more gullible to Hank’s bets.

 

He’d win the next one for sure, but as of now he was staring down the largest tree in the quad, the one what Hank at bet him to climb. He assured him that if anything happened he would catch Bobby. Bobby trusted Hank enough to know that he wouldn’t bail. Hank wasn’t mean.

 

“No powers.” Hank smiled. Bobby didn’t respond and instead grabbed the trunk of the tree.

 

Once he got back down, he’d ask adult Bobby how to not lose Hank’s bets, but also how to not keep letting Hank convince him that he’s wrong.

 

Whatever, that was a problem for another time. All he cared about right now was the tree in front of him, and the little white dove sitting on the top of the tree.

 

Warren was sitting on top branch, feeding the birds around him some nuts and seeds that Warren stole from the bird feeder.

 

“Do you think Birds can be allergic to peanuts?” Bobby asked as he prepared himself to climb up the tree, securing his arms around the tree.

 

“Probably.” Hank said, and then walked over to smack Bobby’s back. “Stop stalling and get climbing.”

 

The smack was stronger than Bobby anticipated, but he didn’t respond, he again, couldn’t banter with Hank while he was so angry at him.

 

Bobby started climbing.

 

This was stupid, this was so stupid. Bobby hated that Jean had figured out that he liked Warren, and he hated even more that she was a gossip who told Hank. This was just a damn elaborate set up for him to get over his stupid feelings for Warren.

 

They could’ve just asked and waived him the embarrassment of losing face to Hank again. He gritted his teeth as he awkwardly climbed the tree with his lack of muscle tone and general strength. God—he couldn’t wait until he was back down so he could tear into Hank with the best of his ability.

 

He got to the top of the tree, one branch underneath Warren. His loud groaning and shuffling alerted the birds and Warren.

 

“Bobby?” Warren asked, and then extended his hand to pull his friend up. “Here, let me help you up.”

 

Bobby groaned once more as he was pulled up on the tree along right next to the extremely warm Angel.

 

“What are you doing up here? Do you wanna feed the bird with me?” Warren smiled, and then frowned when he saw that all the birds had flocked away due to the noise. “When they’re back of course.”

 

Bobby huffed, blowing his hair out of his face. “Yeah—I um,” Bobby leaned against Warren for comfort. “I wanted to talk.”

 

“On the branches?”

 

“Yeah, it’s more your thing than mine but I,” Bobby looked down and then grabbed onto Warren’s thighs. “Oh G-d, we’re really high up.”

 

Warren reached over and grabbed Bobby’s face, tilting up his chin, and forcing Bobby to look at him.

 

“Then focus on me, not on the ground. You want to talk to me, right?”

 

Warren looked so damn beautiful with the sunlight shining on his caramel hair. Bobby didn’t think that was a better idea than looking at the ground. Warren’s hand on his chin didn’t make him feel any less light headed.

 

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.”

 

Bobby swallowed hard. It was going to take more than a while to explain to him that he climbed all the way up here to steal a kiss from the utterly unphasable Warren.

 


End file.
